On a path, two travellers meet
by Aeriel of Isternes
Summary: Sabr is forced to reconsider her opinions on a person she once despised.


A/N: Written as a gift for Minutia_R. Femmslashy undertones completely intentional.

Pirs was a land strange to Sabr. She was a woman made by cities, used to narrow streets and cobblestones. Here the trees were farther apart than in Bern, and more fruitful. The grass was lush beneath her feet, and little streams criss-crossed through the forest.

When I tell Roshka that his land is beautiful, I may truly mean the words, Sabr thought, with some surprise. While Irrylath tended to Avaric, she preferred to wander from land to land, on the pretense of being the messenger of his good tidings.

The truth was that Sabr could barely stand Irrylath's presence, and he had made it clear he felt much the same. She hated the way he had grown cold and aloof, and he hated the reminder in her that he could have been otherwise.

Best not to think on it. She followed the stream to the palace of the suzerain, all cream-colored stone surrounded by more foliage and fountains.

"Tell the suzerain," Sabr commanded an approaching servant, "that Sabr of Avaric has come to pay tribute."

"Follow me," the servant replied. "My lord has been expecting you."

Inside, it appeared that Roshka was already entertaining company. Though his fair hair was covered by a turban, hers fell over her shoulders. They both turned at Sabr's arrival, and Sabr bit back a gasp of horror.

It was none other than the Aeriel, taking wine with her brother!

"Well met, cousins of my cousin," she said stiffly.

"Well met, Sabr. I am happy to see you in better times," Roshka replied. They had last, only briefly, encountered one another in the march on the lorelei. Sabr shank in embarassment to recall how she had scorned him then, thinking herself more important.

"Well met, indeed," echoed the Aeriel, but the sentiment did not quite touch her startling green eyes.

"How fares Crystalglass?" Sabr inquired. "And your servant, Black-As-Night?"

"Erin is not my servant," the Aeriel said, a touch of anger in her voice. "And I have not been at Crystalgass in many daymonths, so I cannot attest to its well being."

"My apologies," Sabr replied. "I am sure she meant no offense, sister," Roshka said hastily, seeing the enmity betwixt the two women growing.

"Please sit down, Sabr- steward, fetch another glass of wine for the ambassador."

Sabr was not thirsty, but she took a sip out of politeness's sake. The Aeriel eyed her warily, taking a sip as well.

They remained as such throughout the meal, watching each other while Roshka attempted smalltalk.

Finally, Sabr spoke up. "He has rejected your blessing."

"What?" said the Aeriel, frowning.

"Irrylath. You've no need to scowl at me thus. I am his ambassador and nothing more. Your victory is complete." At this, Sabr took a long swig from her glass of wine, finishing it.

The Aeriel's brows crossed. "My victory?" she echoed. "What victory could you mean, Sabr? I only ever wanted his happiness."

"As did I," Sabr returned, "but it seems he's determined to be unhappy. A fine king, mind you, but a cold and bitter one."

"This news is most unwelcome!" Aeriel cried out, and for the first time Sabr saw her as another woman, rather than a witch. Guilt seeped into her bones.

"I am sorry," she said softly. "Truly. You did not have to give him permission to wed another and yet you did."

"Much good it did him," Aeriel said bitterly. "Much good it did any of us."

Roshka sighed. "I sense this is a discussion in which I have no place." He stood, brushing crumbs from his fine clothes. "Ravenna's blessings on you both."

In Roshka's absence, Aeriel laughed. It was a sharp, unpleasant sound.

"Somehow I doubt you find Ravenna amusing," Sabr commented.

"She is always with me," Aeriel said bitterly. "Just at the edge of my thoughts, telling me what I should do next. I am under no ensorcelment to listen, but I must hear."

Sabr's jaw dropped. "That's most foul witchery!"

"Some of what she says is true," Aeriel replied calmly. "For instance, I have brought with me words that will help Pirs prosper, and mean to do the same throughout the world. But there are other things with which I cannot agree."

"Such as?"

"Such as you, cousin-of-my-cousin," Aeriel gave her a searching look. "The pearlstuff in my blood says you are not to be trusted. But I believe it is wrong. You loved Irrylath as truly as I."

Sabr could not meet those bright eyes then. "'Tis false. I did not love him for who he was, but for who I believed he could become. I saw him as he truly was in Avaric, and I shrank from him. We would only have brought sorrow to each other."

"I am sorry for the way he has treated you," Aeriel said softly. "You should have had better."

Sabr shook her head. "Save your pity- I have no need of it."

"My compassion then. I know what it is like to be disdained."

She looked at Aeriel then, open and honest, and realized she was a fool to scorn her. "Very well. From one woman to another."

Aeriel smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I have never been aught else."

Their hands brushed across the table, as they both reached for the same bowl of nutmeats. Instead of pulling back, Sabr trailed a finger against Aeriel's palm in a gentle caress.

Aeriel tilted her head. "Is this truly what you want?"

Sabr's met Aeriel's gaze. "You are strong, honest and true."

"It will not be for very long," Aeriel cautioned her. "I cannot promise that."

"It will be enough."


End file.
